


Who Are You, Really? [a modern AU]

by darknessvisible



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: BDSM, College Student Rey (Star Wars), F/M, Kylo Ren Has Issues, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Professor Kylo Ren, Protective Kylo Ren, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Rey/Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2020-08-20 04:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darknessvisible/pseuds/darknessvisible
Summary: Kylo Ren is the tall, handsome, sarcastic Philosophy Professor whose reputation is that of the worst kind. Rey is the impulsive, reckless undergraduate student who longs to know her identity. Despite their obvious differences, the two of them are drawn to one another and discover a larger truth neither of them were prepared for. [smut in later chapters] [slow burn]





	1. First Meeting

“That... is a good question.”

Professor Ren towered over the desk at the bottom of the five hundred person lecture hall, his voice as dry as the atmosphere. It was not, in fact, a good question at all. Professor Ren waited for the students to slowly compute his irony, remaining the picture of stillness. For a man with such broad shoulders, arms dangling at his sides, Kylo Ren was supremely talented at staying absolutely, utterly, insultingly still. 

One of the students, embedded in the top row of the vast lecture hall, kept careful tabs of Professor Ren’s stillness. To this student, it was a sure prediction of the game that followed; a russian roulette of who could tell the class _ why _ this is _ a good question _ , aka why this is an _ astronomically stupid question _ and has no place in the hallowed halls of Philosophy 201. 

Ever since the school had started letting undergraduates sign up without completing the Philosophy 01, 10, and 101 courses, as Professor Ren liked to remind them, a bevy of _ good questions _ started to pop up. 

This Student, Rey, was heavily invested in scoping out such moments. She had _ no desire _ to speak in front of the class, and thus, needed to know exactly when to keep her head down. 

Today was no different. Professor Ren remained still. Rey ducked her head. Someone else was put on the spot. The class moved on. 

After another half hour or so, the class became restless. The last few minutes ebbed on like a dry river. Rey was almost certain the student next to her was periodically groaning while checking their watch. 

As soon as the clock hand ticked towards freedom, half the class began shuffling to their feet, some already bounding up the stairs towards the exit. Rey lingered, taking careful time to stack her notebook and folder between two others as she shimmied the sides of her backpack so everything would fall inside. 

Her eyes were fixed on Professor Ren as she did so. He was so much taller than her, his thick dark hair curling haphazardly around his long face, and he always wore a thin black tie. Without saying a word, he intimidated her. 

For weeks now, Rey had been trying to work up the courage to approach him after class. Having recently added on a Philosophy minor to her Mechanical Engineering major, she needed an advisor by November and Professor Ren was the only Professor in the entire department that she knew. Though she’d taken a class on Kant last semester, the Professor who taught it had since retired, leaving Ren as the only option. 

It was not in her nature to be so timid. In fact, Rey was often in the habit of barreling headfirst towards something with little regard for the consequences. But in Ren’s presence, she could not relax. Even in a five hundred person class, Rey sometimes felt like his eyes were on her, his mind judging her intelligence based off her reactions--nodding? you’re an idiot. shaking your head? you’re still an idiot. Somehow, her lack of calculation seemed childish in front of someone like Professor Ren. 

But the deadline for advisor sheets was fast approaching--Halloween was only two weeks away--and Professor Ren always had his door closed during office hours. Chances whittling down by the day, Rey knew that she had to act fast. 

Many students had filed out, and all that remained was the sizable line of those brave enough--or stupid enough--to approach Professor Ren. The one who was speaking to him now, a redheaded senior named Huxley or something, was smirking while holding up an essay, only to receive a tepid laugh in return from the Professor, as though they might be amused by two totally separate things. Hux, his own intelligence, and Ren, that Hux believed he had any at all. 

Rey slowly ascended from her sanctuary in the top row, her sneakers squeaking against the rubber lined steps. She felt eyes on her. It was a searing gaze. Or was she just nervous? Rey did not glance up even once to see from whom--if at all.

Reaching the bottom step, she hopped off and linked her thumbs behind the straps of her backpack, letting her elbows rest casually against her sides. Her face held back the nervousness she felt inside as the line shortened. _ You can do this. He’s just a person. You are not a child. You are not a child. _

“Do you have a question, or did you intend on making me Force it out of you?”

A voice interrupted Rey’s inner monologue. Professor Ren was leaning against the table, still much taller than her, arms crossed over his thin black tie. The look on his face quickened her pulse. 

_ You are not a child _ . _ Impress him. Mention something insightful. Don’t be rude _. 

“I need an Advisor.” 

He blinked. Rey struggled to construct more words, a longer sentence with an actual question inside it, but it took so much effort to concentrate on _ not _ being impulsive that she had little left over to do much else. 

“Ok.” Ren’s voice was even, but his eyes seemed to inspect her own stillness. “Are you asking me to be your advisor, Miss Rey?”

“You know my name?” The class was _ huge _ and she had never once approached him. _ How _ did he know her? 

Professor Ren’s expression did not change, though his jaw seemed to slightly clench. He did not speak. 

Rey cleared her throat. “Yes, I am.”

More silence passed between them. Rey tried to keep her eyes anywhere but on Professor Ren’s face. He was a viciously handsome man, with sharp eyes and full lips that did not need to be curled in an insult to make one blush. In her nervousness, Rey deliberately refused to count these facets of him. He was _ her Professor _. 

When he answered, her eyes were still fixed elsewhere, on the emergency exit doors to the left of them. “Come to my office tomorrow afternoon and we can discuss this further.” 

His voice was so low, Rey wasn’t even sure she heard him correctly. But she didn’t have time to ask him again, for a loud and familiar voice shouted down towards them from the lecture hall doors. 

“REY! REY! HEY! COME ON!” It was Poe, a good friend of hers. 

Professor Ren’s eyes flicked upwards, a brief flash of irritation.

“You’re being summoned,” he stood up from the chair and began gathering his stuff. “Like a dog.” 

His tone struck a nerve with her. But, she did not say anything, instead tugging on the straps of her backpack as she turned around and headed up the stairs to join her friends. _ You’re not a child _, she reminded herself as she stepped into the main hallway, Poe tossing an arm around her shoulder, himself mid-laugh at something Finn, another friend of theirs, had just said to them. 

“What was that about?” Poe asked while taking a bite into an apple. He squeezed her shoulder. 

“What was what about?” Finn interjected. 

“Rey was talking to that Professor Ren dude. He looked _ seriously _ annoyed.” 

“Oh that’s just how he always is,” another friend of theirs, a kind-faced junior who they’d all met through Finn, approached them. Her name was Rose. 

Everyone looked at Rey to confirm. She shrugged sheepishly, unable to restrain a tiny smile at the thrill of being able to take a small jab back at Ren after his rude comment to her. “It’s true.”

All of her friends exploded in laughter, the four of them a picturesque composite stepping outside of the main hall into the fall sun. 

Rey felt anxious about meeting with Professor Ren tomorrow, but for now, she tucked it away and walked on with her friends towards their dorms. 


	2. Unholy War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Ren is the tall, handsome, sarcastic Philosophy instructor whose reputation is that of the worst kind. Rey is the impulsive, reckless undergraduate student who longs to know her identity. Despite their obvious differences, the two of them are drawn to one another and discover a larger truth neither of them were prepared for. [smut in later chapters] [slow burn]

It was a quiet afternoon in the Philosophy building. A relic from the 80s, with wood paneling all throughout and a musty smell that stayed with you even after you left the building, it housed two cramped hallways, one for full time Professors and one for graduate students and Assistant Professors. Amidst the stagnant air stood Rey, leaning against the wall outside Professor Ren’s office door, eyes closed. 

Armitage Hux, an older student Rey recognized from class yesterday, appeared at the top of the stairs. 

He regarded Rey with a self important smirk as soon as he spotted her. “What’s going on?” 

The short brunette opened her eyes, but she did not turn to face Hux. “Waiting.” Rey really only knew him through his comments in class, and that was enough to convince her that he was--as conversationalists went--a wet blanket. 

Hux was staring intently at Ren’s doorway, his eyes deliciously alight like a puppy mere moments from its first meal of the day. He had with him a pile of papers, and he wasted no time waving them in Rey’s face, grinning, “I’m here to see him about the final paper. _ Yeah. _ The _ final paper _. I thought I’d get a head start.” 

“Wow,” The short brunette went back to closing her eyes. “That’s so… telling.” 

Hux had already begun smirking in acceptance of what he thought was sure to be a compliment, and his face struggled a bit to comprehend what she’d actually said to him. 

Before the redhead could fire back, the resonant timbre of Professor Ren interrupted them. “Hux,” he cleared his throat, “Rey.”

Professor Ren stepped out of the wooden doorway to his office, his signature thin black tie resting over a wine red sweater. With him came a faint, woody scent. 

“Come in,” he spoke directly to Rey. His eyes, naturally punctuated by prominent brows, seemed to be overcast more than usual. Rey braced herself, interpreting this as a signal that he was in a terrible mood. Her mind drifted to a memory of learning about Ares, the God of War. She’d studied a statue of him in an Art History class two years ago. Kylo’s expression reminded her of the marble face, otherworldly and tempting even in its rage. 

She ducked past him through the doorway, muttering, “yeah, thanks.”

Professor Ren followed her after a cursory glance towards Hux, still hovering. He left the door slightly ajar. 

The office only had a single gooseneck red lamp for light, perched on the corner of Ren’s desk. To the right of them was bookshelf--standard issue for furniture in the philosophy department, betraying the neglectful university funding they received year after year--and a single wooden chair facing the desk. 

Rey took a seat, aware of Professor Ren standing behind her. She could feel her skin flushing--most likely from nerves she concluded--and after what felt like endless silence, he spoke. 

“You have only taken one other Philosophy class.” 

“What?”

“Why do you want to minor?” 

He sat, leaning back slightly in the chair and twiddling a pen against the desk. The motion reminded Rey again of Ares, a spear in hand. 

Rey struggled to answer immediately. The entire morning Poe and Finn had been consoling her about the conversation, offering the convincing argument that he was probably going to spout a bunch of philosophical discourse at her and Rey would have to prove that she could keep up. 

“Because,” she tried for confidence, but her backpack was held protectively in front of her chest, like a shield, “I think Philosophy is, you know, cool.” Rey winced, barely able to swallow the cacophony of impulses telling her to do anything _ but _ exactly what she was doing. 

Kylo Ren was not amused, nor was he taking the bait. Leaning further back in the chair, he stopped the pen and gripped his entire hand around it. “Rey.” His eyes were overcast again, like they held back something that feared itself. 

“What? That’s not a lie.” 

“It’s not the whole truth.” 

“It’s enough.” 

“Enough is a relative term.” 

“So is--”

“Rey.”

“Truth is incomprehensible without empirical evidence, which itself is incomprehensible _ because _ it is empirical. No reference point? Is that better?” Rey spoke so fast she did not breathe until she finished. Adding after a moment, “I just need you to sign a piece of paper. Should be simple enough.”

“_Simple _. Like you pretend to be.” Kylo tossed the pen across his desk as though the mere mention of mediocrity offended him. Again, he was Ares, sitting around a War table. 

She lowered the backpack, letting it rest on the side of her knee. In an irritated voice, she replied, “I’m not pretending.” His estimation of her seemed wildly unfair, as did his presumption that she should _ share _ upon request. _ Like a dog _ ? Rey scoffed internally, recalling his insult from yesterday. _ What’s this then? _

“Why do you want to minor in philosophy?” 

“Well, at this point…” She fired back, her usual shyness in front of Professor Ren worn down by his brazen demeanor. 

“_Why do you want to minor in Philosophy _?” Professor Ren’s eyes met hers, and Rey pictured the face of Ares, alight with flames, the final image his enemies would see. A sight so beautiful and so terrible, with no one alive long enough to render it. 

“I want to know the answer.” Rey’s frustration was capped by a distilled response, “and don’t ask me to what because--.” 

“I wasn’t going to.” Kylo let his seat back down, now sitting upright across from her. The woody scent from earlier found its way back around to Rey, causing her to shiver. Or was it Professor Ren’s potent expression as he regarded her? 

He did not break eye contact from her, barely moving aside from clenching his jaw, just as he did yesterday when they spoke in the lecture hall. 

“I’m not sure I’m convinced to sign this paper, Miss Rey.” 

Holding in a breath, Rey finally let it out, unable to hide her exasperation at his response. “_Professor _,” she appealed to him, and at the word Kylo Ren seemed to clench his jaw again. “I know what I’m doing. Are you going to trust me, or not?” 

Finn and Poe had preemptively yelled at her lest she let slip a response exactly like this one--full of the same presumption and arrogance that Rey prickled at the sight of in Ren. 

For the first time in her entire acquaintance of him, Professor Ren seemed to discreetly smile, as though she had finally said something of value to him since the conversation began.

“Meet me outside my office this Sunday morning.” 


	3. Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Ren is the tall, handsome, sarcastic Philosophy instructor whose reputation is that of the worst kind. Rey is the impulsive, reckless undergraduate student who longs to know her identity. Despite their obvious differences, the two of them are drawn to one another and discover a larger truth neither of them were prepared for. [smut in later chapters] [slow burn]

Music was blaring throughout the clubhouse. A few speakers were outside, creating a makeshift fence around two fold out tables, games of beer pong already in full swing. Rey, Finn, Poe, and Rose entered together, mid-conversation. 

“All I’m _ saying _ is that he’s _ hot _. I dispute nothing else. He _is_ a terrible Professor.” Rose spoke between giggles as Finn swatted her arm. 

“Don’t give Rey any ideas,” he cautioned, scanning a nearby table for a cooler of unopened beers. 

Poe clasped a hand on Rey’s shoulder, shoving her towards the table. “Yeah, no funny business, Kenobi.” 

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy who is going to be responsible for me passing out in the middle of this party. Seriously, Poe, this shirt is _ so _ tight. I mean, I’m not even _ sure _ it’s a _ shirt _…” Rey pulled on the black twine straps of her top - it was a cinching, stiff material that gave her cleavage where it did not truly exist. She’d argued the entire way here with Poe about it, having been persuaded into putting it on with the promise that there would be time to change if it didn’t work out. 

As soon as she’d shimmied her way into the top, Poe ushered her to the door. Everyone else had been outside, already waiting. 

“If you plan to leave this godless university with at least _ one _ interesting experience under your belt, you’ve got to start wearing more tops like this.” He shrugged, spotting a cooler and popping the lid open, passing along beers to everyone. 

“I’ve had interesting experiences,” Rey immediately opened her beer, taking a generous sip. Finn groaned, knowing exactly who she was referring to. “_Fuck _ that guy. He was so weird. Pretty sure he believed in aliens.” 

“_Alien boy _?” Rose gasped. 

Rey narrowed her gaze, rounding on Finn. “How does Rose know about Alien Boy?” 

Finn stammered. “Well - I - honestly think about how hard it is to keep Alien Boy to myself. He wrote you an actual ass _ poem _ . Like, a _ piece of art _ . After you shared a _ cigarette _ at a _ party _ hosted by the fucking Film department. His idea of foreplay is watching Roswell documentaries and talking about how _ Clarie’s Knee _ is the best movie ever.” 

Poe, having cracked open his beer and already made impressive progress with it, laughed and clinked his bottle against Finn’s. “To Alien Boy!” 

“To Alien Boy!” A grinning Finn echoed.

“To Slutty Rey!” Rose beamed, clinking her bottle with the two boys. 

“What?” Rey waved her beer around accusingly at all three of them. “That’s not the timeline we are in right now.” 

“No, it’s not,” Rose patted her arm, “but it’s where we deserve to be.” The three of them broke into laughter, and even as Rey tried to act angry at them, she couldn’t keep a straight face. 

All four friends clinked glasses, tossing back their beers as the music turned up. 

\-----

Rey slowed down after her second beer. She had quite a strong stomach for alcohol, but she didn’t much care for being drunk right now. It was losing its appeal -- as were many other things going into this school year. 

At the beginning of last year, they’d all made a pact - the terms loosely arranged over a night of beer olympics. It was initiated by Rose, who declared that Finn, Poe, and Rey complained too much. She dared them to solve a single problem “of your own making” by the end of the semester. Finn and Poe seemed to enjoy the joke, but Rey couldn’t shake the conversation, even weeks later. 

What did it mean to have a “problem of your own making”? The subjective nature irritated her.

Her biggest problems had always felt circumstantial - of _ someone else’s _ making. Having been abandoned as a baby, bounced around between foster homes, no knowledge of _ who _ she really was and _ how _ she ended up like this. Many times she felt stretched between the frustration of things she could not control and the desire to create her own destiny. If it were possible to have a hand in your own absolution, Rey wanted to know. She’d spent years trying to outgrow the nightmares, the panic, the yearning for an image to make oneself in - a mother, a family. 

Rose’s proposition had opened up unprecedented questions. Incoherent, fumbling questions, desperate to be articulated. 

Now, Rey was in Professor Ren's class, still searching for answers, feeling like a puppet pantomiming a routine everybody around her knew, but no one would call it by name. 

She was lonely and aimless, moored without language to comprehend herself. 

The only respite she had now was the sweaty, shiny, laughing faces of her friends as they abandoned their wits to cheap beer and shit talking across a wobbly fold out picnic table, ping pong balls flying everywhere. 

Swaying slightly, feeling the buzz from her third beer, Rey contemplated her internal state as she smiled and laughed along with Finn, Rose, and Poe while they danced to the thumping rhythm of the speakers. 

“You look like someone who _ really _wants to be here.” A voice interrupted her. 

Rey turned her head slightly. Standing to her right was a tall, slender young man with bright blond hair and honey-colored eyes. He was smiling, holding his own beer, cautiously guiding it towards hers in order to clink them together. 

“Why does everyone keep doing that tonight?” Rey giggled. 

“What? Cheersing you?” 

“No. Giving me a hard time.” 

The stranger snorted, rocking back on his heels slightly. “Probably because you have one of those, you know, faces.” 

“Oh, _ wow _, you’re looking at my face.” Rey’s mocking tone was punctuated by finishing off the rest of her beer, the buzz fully setting in. She placed the empty bottle down onto one of the fold out tables, gesturing vaguely towards her still laughing friends. “They told me no one would be looking at my face tonight.”

“Well, I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I’m Carter, and I am very much looking at your face.” He laughed and extended a hand. 

Rey eyed it, suddenly remembering that she had to meet with Professor Ren tomorrow, and her mood instantly changed. An unknown anxiety rose in her chest. 

“Sorry, did I say something wrong?” Carter looked genuinely concerned, his honey-colored eyes striking beneath furrowed brows. 

“No no, it’s not - no.” Rey laughed nervously. She could feel an impulse bubbling up inside her. 

“Want another drink?” 

“Sure.” 

“Are you going to tell me your name?”

“Maybe.” 

* * *

The next day, Rey slept through the afternoon. 

By the time she woke up, an email notification was waiting for her. It was from Professor Ren.

As she fumbled to unlock the screen, memories of the night before came flooding back. Drinking with Carter, playing flip cup, unable to recall if that was before after the round of shots. Head pounding, Rey opened the email, rubbing her eyes before taking her first look at the time; it was almost 4pm. 

“_ Shit _ !” Rey sat straight up. “ _ Shit shit shit _.” 

She tumbled out of bed and pulled open a few drawers hastily in order to grab socks, underwear, and a t-shirt. Hopping towards the door as she got dressed, Rey grabbed her backpack and keys, faintly aware that she forgot to wear a bra but too caught up in the fear of Professor Ren. He would probably refuse to be her advisor now. 

It was normally a short walk between Rey’s dorm and Professor Ren’s office in the Philosophy department, but that did not stop her from sprinting all the way there. Breathless, she climbed up the stairs two at a time and nearly crashed into Ren’s slightly open door as she reached the top. 

He was sitting at his desk, lighting dim as before, completely still other than his eyes flicking up to regard the loud noise. When he saw it was her, Kylo breathed in sharply. “Miss Rey.” 

“Hi Professor, I’m so sorry,” she barged into the room, “I lost track of the time and--”

“You smell like alcohol.” 

“What?” Rey stopped abruptly in front of his desk. She slowly glanced down at the clothes she’d thrown on, realizing that the jeans were from last night, a beer stain all down her right thigh. “Oh.” 

“Is that why you didn’t show up this afternoon?” Ren did not move from his chair. He was wearing the same signature thin black tie as usual, his button up shirt clinging to the curves of his tense shoulders. His eyes seemed to be scanning her, Rey assumed it was to judge her juvenile appearance. 

Kylo’s gaze lingered briefly on her chest. 

“Well, not _ exactly _. It was… a… contributing factor.” Rey replied through strained lips, her usual embarrassment around Professor Ren battling with her irritation at his tone. 

Kylo stood up, walking past her towards the door and pushing it entirely open. “I’m busy.” In his voice was an indiscernible crack. 

“Does this mean you won’t sign my paper?” She turned to him. The light from the doorway only caught his chest, leaving his long, handsome face in shadow, rendering Rey unable to tell from his expression if he was mocking her or being serious. 

He stepped towards her, face coming into the light. “It means, I’m busy.” His eyes flashed, once again towards her chest. Rey suddenly felt uncomfortable, as though she were a petulant child being told to go to bed without dinner. Why did he make her feel like this? He was just a Professor. _ You’re not a child _, Rey recalled her own reminder. 

The embarrassment riled her, “Yeah, you _ clearly _ look it.” 

Rey grazed past him, exiting the office. Professor Ren’s face flashed again when she brushed his chest, leaving the signature black tie to rustle in the quick wind of her wake.


	4. Say My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ thank you to everyone reading & commenting!! hope you're all ready for some ~tension~. the next chapter should be coming tonight or tomorrow!!! can u tell i'm excited about it xD ]

Nearly two weeks had passed since Rey had last spoken to Professor Ren. He dodged her attempts to catch him after class, striding up the steps of the lecture hall and out the door before even some of the students had a chance to gather their things. She made one other attempt to visit him during his office hours, but when she got there the door was locked and no amount of knocking produced a reply. 

Rey was convinced he was punishing her for standing up their meeting.

It seemed rather brash, she reflected, in the stewing awkwardness between them during class whenever she caught his eye, that he would go this far to make her feel small. 

Then again, Professor Ren _did_ have an unpleasant reputation. Rose even reminded her a couple of days after the missed meeting that, “he’s not exactly swimming in advisees, since no one wants to work with his piss poor elitist attitude”. He absolutely _could_ sign the paper, if he wanted to. He simply _wasn’t_. 

All the anxiety his presence previously induced had been fully integrated into her dislike for him now. 

The deadline for submitting minor declarations loomed in more ways than one; it was no longer a question of how to convince Professor Ren, rather if he could be convinced _at all_.  


In the middle of the second week of their stalemate, Rey headed to the East Campus dining hall before Professor Ren’s class, purposely traveling to the lesser frequented part of campus. Finn, Rose, and Poe usually traveled off campus at this time, so there was little chance of running into them.  


On another day, Rey wouldn’t have minded the company of her friends, longed for it - even - but her moods before Professor Ren’s class were growing more sour as their standoff dragged on. 

Approaching the main entrance, Rey heard a familiar voice. 

“Hey -- _Hey_! I still don’t know your name.” 

Carter waved from across the entrance, his honey-colored eyes shining even at a distance. 

Rey waved back, swiping herself into the dining area with a student ID card. “I haven’t decided if I’m going to tell you yet.”  
  
  
Carter followed her, one hand in his pocket and the other gingerly patting the back of his neck.   


Noticing, Rey joked, “are you… nervous?” A laugh slipped. “You’re totally nervous.” 

“I’m _totally_ not.” Carter mirrored her laugh, though it was at his expense. He held out both of his hands, as if to surrender. “It’s just harder to talk to you without all the alcohol. And the, you know, reckless abandon.” 

“Is that why you go to parties? To recklessly abandon your poor, sad, sober self?” 

“No he’s fine. The other guy is just better.” 

“Ah, the duality of man.” Rey was now standing next to Carter, rifling through a basket of apples to find one she liked. His bright eyes were fixed on her as she dug into the bruised red and yellow skins. Sensing that she was being watched, Rey picked up an apple and tossed it in his direction. 

Carter hastily caught it, chuckling though it was clear she’d startled him. “Was that a test?” 

Rey paused thoughtfully, finally selecting her apple. “Yes.” She smirked. “I’m Rey.”

“Rey,” he repeated her name, giving it a sing-song quality that somehow reminded Rey of Professor Ren, not because it was similar but because it was quite the opposite of how he said it. In Ren’s reverberating tone - _Miss Rey_ \- it sounded like a rattlesnake. She wondered briefly if he would continue to ignore her today after class, or if she should even attempt to approach him again. 

“...you know what I mean?” 

“Hm?” Realizing that Carter had been smiling at her, seemingly excited about something, Rey turned her head towards him and tried to smile back, though she was still distracted by the pit forming in her stomach at the thought of Professor Ren. 

“I was saying that we should totally hang out after class this week.”

“Sorry,” she conceded, “I’m really anxious about my next class. Professor Ren is just… ugh. He’s awful. I can’t think about anything else.” 

Carter’s smile softened. “I have an idea. Why don’t we meet up after class on Friday? I took his class last year, he teaches it in the same room, same time, so I’ll see you outside the lecture hall?”

Taking a bite out of her apple and checking the time on her phone, Rey nodded, thoughts still stuck on Ren’s shadowed face, wondering if he was sitting in his office right now, chair tilted back, eyes sharp on whatever they took in. 

“I’ve gotta head over now.” Rey swiped another apple and stuffed it in her backpack hastily, flashing Carter a grin. 

“See you on Friday.” 

Xxxxxxxx

Ren was still ignoring her. They had been covering Plato’s _Phaedrus_ the entire week, putting it in conversation with Aristotle. Rey’s frustration with Professor Ren had translated to a growing desperation to understand the material without his help. She stayed up late the last few nights adding footnotes into her copy of _Phaedrus_ \- something she’d seldom done in her academic career. Engineering, math, spatial reasoning, these things came naturally to her. 

Perhaps in some way Philosophy did too, but it wasn’t enough to merely comprehend the subject. She wanted to be _prepared_ to quip back at him, should he ever acknowledge her again, and that meant rising to a level of critical reflection that kept her up past 1am the past few nights. 

The subject matter consistently conjured Ren’s face in her mind - Plato’s attempt to articulate the reliant and necessary relationship between _reason_ and _desire_ reminded Rey of the first time she’d visited Professor Ren’s office. He was Ares, and she was a tiny little plot of land that wasn’t even worth conquering. 

At least, that is how his silence had come to make her feel. 

Finally, Friday came. 

Rey’s backpack dug into her shoulders as she hurriedly walked to Professor Ren’s class. Despite the breezy, mercurial October weather, she dressed herself for a hot summer day. Jean shorts, loose crop top, no bra. 

It was an impulsive choice - one Rey would happily leave unquestioned were it not for the sudden feeling of embarrassment as she approached the lecture hall doors. 

_Why are you dressed like this? You are not a child_. Rey chided herself, shielding her gaze from the lecture pit where Professor Ren would be. 

Most of the seats had been filled, leaving a few peppered along the front two rows. 

Another student blocked Rey’s way into the open seat farthest from the podium, forcing her to wait. Above her, a vent rattled cold air into the wide room. The sensation reached her, causing a shiver. 

A loud ‘thud’ came from the lecture pit. Rey reflexively looked towards the noise. Professor Ren stood by the podium, one hand gripping the bag he’d set down, and the other clenched by his side. His gaze, unmoving, was set upon her, and the intensity of it made Rey self conscious. 

She sat, awkwardly, feeling the cotton fabric of her shirt brush up against her nipples, another shiver reminding her to wear two sweaters next time. 

He did not stop looking at her until she pulled her laptop out in front of her and opened it. 

The lecture was fast paced - even for Ren - and his usual demeanor of cool agitation seemed to be replaced by a restlessness. More than once he tugged on the thin black tie he always wore. 

His eyes, darker than usual, kept finding Rey. Disarmed by the sudden acknowledgement after two weeks of avoiding her gaze, Rey stared back at him each time, as if to dare him to take things one step further and actually _speak_ to her. _Ask_ her a question, in front of everyone, so that her long nights of preparation would shine through and make him feel foolish for ever thinking she wasn’t ready - or smart enough - or whatever enough to be trusted. 

By the time class ended, Rey had forgotten almost everything except for Ren’s long, sharp face. Why did he unnerve her so much? 

“_Miss Rey_ -” the deep, reverberant voice rattled over the sound of students packing up, “_stay after class to see me_.”


	5. Glorious Thorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [ this chapter was fun to write!! the next chapter will pick up from Ren's perspective at the end of this chapter, so if you're hoping for him to see Rey and Carter together, be patient i promise ~that slow burn~ is coming. also, for any of you who are interested ~ the song Rey is listening to at the end, and also the song that is the theme for her convo with Professor Ren, is "talk" by hozier. feel free to put it on while you read their confrontation. let me know what you think of this chapter!! thanks to all who are reading and commenting <33 ]

As the last student exited, Rey shuffled awkwardly towards the podium, hands gripping her backpack straps. Professor Ren watched her, his jaw tightly wound like an animal battling its own instinct. He spoke first. 

“Are you cold?” 

“What?” Rey snapped her head up at him, blinking. Her anticipation yielded many scenarios of what he would say, but none of them involved _ any _ amount of concern. 

Or was it concern? The corners of his eyes settled into a sly twitch, but they quickly smoothed to disinterest, leaving Rey wondering if she’d seen anything to begin with. 

“It’s 50 degrees outside.”

Rey absently pulled down the sides of her shorts, fighting down the urge to excuse herself. “I’m aware, thanks.” 

Her dry tone sparked a tiny movement in Ren - another small, devious twitch beneath his eye. “In the beginning of the semester, you showed promise. But now, all things considered,” he gestured at her vaguely, “I have doubts.” 

Rey’s eyes narrowed at his palm motioning towards her. “What does that mean?” She could feel herself losing the battle to stay put. Hadn’t he embarrassed her enough? “What ‘things’ have you considered?”

“Your priorities betray your immaturity.” Professor Ren gently pulled at his tie, though unlike the agitated way he’d been doing so during lecture, this was a slow, tapping pull; a man in contemplation now rather than a man in conflict. “Drinking, partying excessively, dressing like a toddler - quite literally -” his eyes flashed, “Is this your idea of _ harmony between reason and desire_?”

Recalling Plato’s play, _ Phaedrus _\- having studied it in the hopes of a moment like this - Rey found herself far less anxious than she’d expected to be, instead fueled by an acute dislike of Ren’s entire demeanor to her in that moment. 

And so, she stopped battling her own impulses down. 

She stepped towards the podium. “Is this some kind of elaborate joke to discern if I’ve been keeping up with the reading? Or are you truly so arrogant that you take your cues on desire from dead white men?”

Professor Ren stepped towards her, his stride much wider. He towered over her even with the foot and a half between them, eyes alight and unmoving in their pursuit of her. “Neither their deadness nor their whiteness detract from the lesson they have to offer, which is that _desire_ is best exercised with accompanying _reason_ to determine it _good_.” 

Unable to stop herself, Rey shot him a skeptical look. “Oh, so you’re telling me you’ve _ never _ desired something that wasn’t good for you?” Her eyes bore back into him, drawing from the same intensity he directed at her. If he was going to make her feel uncomfortable - if he was going to _ insult _ her life choices - all because she asked him to _sign_ _a_ _form_ \- then she would finally stop playing with both hands tied behind her back. 

“I don’t let myself feel things that aren’t good, Miss Rey.” His lower lip quaked ever so slightly, like a rustle of reeds by the water's edge.  


"_Come on_," she blazed, “_You _ teach a philosophy class, yet you are _ afraid _ of _ your own _ thoughts.” She grimaced. “I make mistakes, but at least I’m not afraid to admit that I can be dangerous to myself.”

Adapting a detached tone to supplant his inscrutable expression, Ren replied, “I simply am stable enough to resist.” His breath tickled the top of Rey’s nose, making her aware that the two of them had stepped even closer, Ren leaning ever so slightly to meet her craning gaze. His eyes, darker than she’d ever seen them, studied her entire face.

Rey suddenly felt certain this was her moment to finally make him feel as small as he’d made her feel. She took an ambitious step towards him, the fabric of their shirts brushing against one another. She was no longer cold, but the sensation perked her all the same. Ren breathed in sharply. 

Dropping her voice, Rey tied herself to the darkness in his eyes, unwilling to blink or look away. “Then you haven’t truly desired anything yet.” 

Professor Ren’s fingers rippled, his palm snapping shut. The unreadable wall around his long face appeared to crack, as though it held back so much that it might never seal back up should everything break free. Rey was certain he wanted to speak - and while it frightened her just how much she longed to hear what he had to say, her body stuck to the original plan. She turned towards the stairs and beelined up to the doors. 

Ren was left standing in the lecture pit, breathing still uneven. 

As soon as she stepped into the main atrium, a body collided with hers. 

“Sorry! _ Oh _, Carter.” 

“You forgot.” He smiled. 

“No, no,” she took his arm and began steering them farther away from the double doors, acutely aware that there was only one way in and out of the lecture hall. Professor Ren would have to walk through them any minute. “Professor Ren just asked me to stay after class.” 

“I thought you said he’s awful.” 

Confused by his comment, Rey stopped them, dropping his arm. “He _is_ awful.” 

Carter appeared to be giving something great thought. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugging. “You two were pretty loud.” 

“What?” 

“I could hear you.” 

“In there?” Rey waved behind them. “We were arguing.” 

“Right.” His smile returned, still thoughtful. “So,” he reached out to take her hand, wrapping it around his forearm like it had been moments before. “Have you ever heard the joke about the hot girl and her schmuck boyfriend?” 

Rey laughed, trying to shake off the aftereffects of Ren’s presence. “No, I haven’t. How does it go?” They began walking together towards the main exit to the quad. 

“Well it goes like this.” He held the door open for her. As they stepped into the sunlight, Rey noticed the chromatic tones of his hair. He was objectively quite good-looking. Her mind wandered back to the moment she’d accused Ren of lacking a _ true _ desire. 

Something that burned to refuse. Something that could take you down with it. Something you’d make a home in hell for just a taste of. 

Carter didn’t make her feel that way. Then again, no one did. _ Not really. _

“There’s this really hot girl, and she’s sleeping with her Professor, while her schmuck boyfriend carries her books and waits for her after class. That’s the joke.” 

“Mmm,” Rey leaned against his shoulder. “Am I the hot girl? Are you the schmuck boyfriend?” 

Carter chuckled. “I could be. I don’t know. I’m also a hot girl, so I have to decide if I want you to be my schmuck boyfriend, too.” 

Playfully slapping his arm, Rey rolled her eyes. The anxious pit in her stomach remained, but Carter made it easier to return back to a reality where Professor Ren had no influence outside of what she gave him. Her task was complete now - he was likely in his office or walking to his car or standing in the evening breeze somewhere feeling so stupid for underestimating Rey Kenobi. _ Yep. That’s totally what’s happening, so you don’t need to think about him anymore _. 

They crossed the quad, still linking arms, until Rey heard her friends calling out. 

Finn was the first to approach, jogging up to her. “You’re avoiding me,” he pointed at her, “You. You’re avoiding me and also who… _ who _\--” Her friend waved at Carter as though he’d just noticed a tacky wall decor, “who is this?” 

Carter extended a hand, but before he could take it, Poe and Rose joined them, the pair in mid-argument. 

“I just don’t think you could fly a plane after ten beers.” Rose smiled sweetly, hooking herself onto Rey’s free arm. 

“Halfsies on a rental and I’ll prove you _ wrong _, Rose Tico.” Poe flashed the group a grin, “That’s only a couple hundred bucks to have the experience of a lifetime.” 

“Is this what happens when I’m not around?” Rey giggled, the presence of her friends tending to the drained feeling she'd exited the lecture hall with.

“Mmhmm,” Rose nodded, pausing to regard Carter in the same way Finn had. “Who is this?”

“Oh, you know,” Carter grinned, clearly feeling comfortable around her raucous friends, “I’m just the schmuck boyfriend.” 

* * *

That night, Rey had trouble falling asleep, occupied by thoughts she’d hoped to be rid of by now. Music played softly through her headphones. The conversation with Professor Ren ran on an endless reel. Some part of her wondered if she had simply dreamed the entire thing. So much of it felt senseless, and yet… _ Something _ . Something _ occurred _. 

Carter’s reserved expression - the way he regarded her when she came out of the lecture hall - nagged at her. The stupid joke. It _ was _ just a joke, right? 

Rey couldn’t help but wonder what Professor Ren would say if he knew she had a boyfriend. Would he insult her priorities again? Why did she feel the tiniest thrill at finding out? 

It didn’t matter. Wasn’t she done with him? Her petite body rolled back and forth in the tiny, regulation-size dorm bed. The mattress was barely a mattress at all, rather a slippery pad that was only made tolerable by the mountain of sheets she layered on top of it. Ren's eyes seemed to find her every time she closed her own. His full, wild lips, teeming with words for her. _Immature. Childish. Unprepared_. What would he say about her now?  
  
  
Her phone buzzed. It was 2am.

  
Rey turned down the music slightly, sitting up in the dark room. It was an email from Professor Ren. 

“_Meet me in my office next Friday_.”

A dizzying wave overtook her, unsure if it was anxiety or anticipation she felt quickening her pulse. _ Next Friday… _

Flipping to her calendar app, Rey stared down at the date, realizing it was Halloween.


	6. No Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ smut factor goes up a bit here. i know Prof Ren is fairly absent in this chapter but that's the slow burn doing its painful job. thanks everyone for reading!!
> 
> also! LeiaMyLabrador is the MVP, out here making an incredible mood board for this story, check it out below! ]

[mood board created by LeiaMyLabrador](https://ibb.co/7tX8HpR)

“_Th__en you haven’t truly desired anything yet. _”

Kylo Ren was pinned to the wooden floor of the lecture pit, his eyes surreptitiously upon Rey as she exited. In their clouded hue, the smallest bit of wonder could be found, marvelling at how Rey walked up the stairs. She reminded him of a fly miraculously escaping a spider’s web, somehow climbing out. 

He gathered his things and followed not long after, filling the wake of her footsteps with his long strides. 

Her petite silhouette was easy to spot--by her side a student Kylo vaguely recognized from a past semester. The two were slow to exit, closing the gap between their conversation and Kylo’s earshot. 

“_ Have you ever heard the joke about the hot girl and her schmuck boyfriend _?” 

Kylo clenched his jaw, changing directions so as to avoid overhearing anything more. As it was, he needed a cold shower and a double bourbon; it was not necessary to stoke that fire any further. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rey’s phone had been buzzing all afternoon. Though she hadn’t been checking it - too absorbed in the outline she was making for her first major assignment in Professor Ren’s philosophy class. It was a paper on different types of desire. 

Finally pausing after jotting down a thought, Rey lifted her phone off the table she’d sprawled out her study materials on, scrolling through the bevy of notifications. Finn. Finn. Finn. Rose. Poe. Poe pretending to be Rose (his texting manner was too distinct to be mistaken, even when he used other people’s phones to discern if he was being ignored). Dialing Finn back, Rey waited for his familiar voice to pick up, probably in the middle of an argument with Poe about what music to put on.

“Kenobi.” Finn barked her name like an army general. “I have a mission for you.” 

Rey snorted. “Go on.” 

“There’s a party tonight and I need you to get it together. Do you remember how to do that, my little philosopher peanut? My best friend, who isn’t making time for me anymore. My only--”

“I know what you’re doing, Finn.” Rey sighed, her smile concealed over the phone. 

“Is it working?” Finn’s voice was hopeful. 

“I have to write this essay before Monday…”

“Oh, oops, sorry, the connection… it’s so bad… all I heard you say was ‘I’ll see you at 8, Finn, and I’m bringing the vodka’. Wow, yeah, such bad connection… beep bop. Bye.”

Groaning, Rey hung up and let the phone clatter onto the desk, bouncing off the corner of an open book. Surveying the spread before her - at least two open books with sticky notes hanging on for dear life (something she was still new at doing, and thus a bit overzealous), her laptop open on the outline, an iced coffee that had been refilled once already, Rey winced.

The outline was only halfway done, and even in its completion it would need serious editing. Rey was intent on turning in the best paper she could possibly write, and perhaps, something beyond that, but she did not have the words for it yet. Only that she wanted to make Professor Ren doubt himself when he reads her words. Not just about her intelligence, or her potential, but something… more. 

Going out tonight was out of the question. 

She texted Finn a sad face and returned to the work at hand, twirling a pencil between her knuckles with one hand while the other rifled through one of the books open before her. 

A working title stared back at her from the pixelated screen: _ Taboo Desire: An Evacuation of Reason, Or An Evolution of it? _

Xxxxxxxx

Finn protested quite a bit, blowing up her phone with everything from gifs of dogs refusing to eat treats to that one with the dancing pumpkin man. But Rey stuck to her plan, slipping into pajama shorts and a tank top as she curled up in the stiff, laminated chair to her standard issue dorm room desk. 

After a couple hours of constantly adjusting to get comfortable, Rey decided it was time to utilize the student lounge couches downstairs. Grabbing an oversized hoodie, she pulled it sloppily over her head and shoved her feet into fuzzy slippers, heading out with her laptop tucked under her arm. 

The student lounge was busier than usual, but a quick glance at the time told Rey why; it was nearly 3am on a Friday night, the perfect time for microwave mac and cheese and vending machine snacks. 

Rey pulled up her hood and pulled down on the straps, tightening the fabric so much that she looked like a tiny egg, only her eyes and nose peeking out. The perfect disguise in case Finn, Rose, and Poe drunkenly wandered in here, shouting about some bet Poe was sure to lose. 

Spotting an open chair - a plush, blue material that did not scratch like some of the other couches, Rey quickly set up shop. 

After twenty or so minutes of typing and deleting and retyping and moving around and googling, Rey heard two people stumbling through the double doors that led directly from outside into the lounge. At first she did not break from the laptop screen, still absorbed in perfecting her most recent sentence. 

A parade of giggles followed the two people inside, perking Rey’s ears. 

“You have no idea,” a male voice spoke. Rey instantly recognized it. 

Her eyes subtly flicked up to the source of the sound, spotting a very drunk Carter leaning against the wall, his lanky arm around some shorter blond girl with glitter eyeshadow and purple lipstick. 

It was the girl who noticed Rey staring at them first. She giggled and waved, shouting across the lounge, “I like your egg look.” 

“Thanks,” Rey scooted her face deeper into the cinched hood, hoping to hide her flushed face. 

Carter pushed away from the wall, steadying himself with the arm still around the blond girl. “Egg?” He squinted at Rey, taking a moment to register her presence. 

“Rey!” He quickly removed the hand he’d wrapped around the other woman. “Hi,” he started walking over towards her. “Finn said you weren’t coming tonight. I can’t believe I ran into you.” Even if he hadn’t been piss drunk, Rey would have sensed his nervousness a mile away. His voice wobbled like a rabbit’s heartbeat, too fast for itself. She saw his furtive glances at the blond woman. 

After spending the entire afternoon writing a paper on desire--its taboo manifestations and the socialized arguments to abstain or restrict or deny altogether its ontological significance--the situation did not rile her like Carter seemed to be anticipating in his cautious demeanor. 

“Having fun?” Rey spoke politely. 

“With her? No. I mean, yes, I mean not like that.” 

The blond woman wandered towards the vending machine with glistening eyes, seemingly unbothered by whatever else was going on. 

“It’s okay, Carter,” Rey shut her laptop and stood up. “We literally hung out once. It’s fine.” She smiled, though only the top corners of her mouth were visible through the hoodie, still cinched around her face. 

He was quiet, honey-colored eyes glued to his feet. 

“Enjoy the rest of your night.” Rey excused herself quickly. 

“Wait,” Carter called out to her, “do you…. Um… want to go costume shopping together this week? Halloween is on Friday.” 

Surprised by his offer, Rey repeated back, “I said it’s okay, Carter.” She shrugged, “besides, I don’t really want to go on a date with you--” 

“No, as friends. I don’t want to go on a date with you either.” He glanced up shyly from his shoes, blond hair framing his brow bone. His eyes surveyed her for the smallest gesture. Rey knew this because she’d been looked at like that before. 

Professor Ren’s face, shining under the fluorescent lights of the lecture pit, materialized in her mind. He drank her in like that, too. And, just like Carter, he denied any desire for her. Hadn’t that been the truth behind the argument between Rey and Professor Ren? Was the question she’d lauded over him truly _ hypothetical _ , or did some part of her wish to know whether or not he’d ever desired _ her _, despite the barriers between them? The taboos.

And wasn’t that the piece of her motivation to stay in and write her paper--the one she could not articulate? Her own desire. Would she fear it now, like the men around her clearly did? 

Ren’s face appeared in her mind again, like Ares, and it made Rey wonder who her own desire resembled. If she--like Ren--resembled a lineage, a legacy, something that her existence built on, rather than forged anew. 

The question pulled her in, leaving Carter to gawk at her lack of response to his question. 

The petite brunette headed back to her room, brows fixed in contemplation while the birds began to chirp outside. In their morning song, all Rey could hear was Professor Ren’s voice. His sharp, rattling tone, so deep and demanding when he addressed her. 

_ Miss Rey _

Her body began to ache. 

_ Miss Rey _

She could feel a flush rising through her neck. 

_ Miss Rey _

Closing the door behind her, she pulled the hoodie off and shivered at the ripple of fabric against her skin, thinking once again of his voice. _ Miss Rey _. 

Her thighs clenched, partly from the shame of what she longed to do in that moment and partly from the thrill of denying it to herself. That perhaps such a denial would make her meeting with Professor Ren on friday all the more sweet. 

_ Miss Rey _

This was so wrong, that much she conceded to. 

_ Miss Rey _

And it did not stop her from climbing into bed and imagining the wrongness until the ache of it lulled her to sleep.


	7. Say My Name, Pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ this is the trope-iest chapter yet, ft. dominatrix kitty rey , jealous kylo ren throwing a very sexy tantrum, inopportune knocking, and more!!! please let me know your thoughts! ]

Halloween had finally arrived. 

Rey slept through her alarm that morning, trapped in the leftover grogginess from her lack of sleep the entire week. The meeting with Professor Solo loomed like the branches of a willow tree, dangling just above her head, blocking her view of anything else. She even skipped the lectures this week, hiding away in the basement of the library instead, trying to focus on anything else but the electricity in her head. 

Finn had tried to coax her into coming costume shopping with them earlier in the week, but Rey had accidentally napped through the afternoon, leaving Poe to blow up her phone and Rose to stop by after to make sure she was still alive. 

If Rey hadn’t felt so clouded, she would have been grateful. They had all pitched in and bought her a costume - “just a simple kitty costume”, Poe had texted her. Which, Rey knew, meant that it was probably some heinous, kitchen cloth of a thing that could barely pass as clothing, let alone a costume. 

She’d texted back that a witch hat from CVS would do, but now that the day was finally here, and Rey was rolling over to shut off her phone alarm, the only thing that she wanted to do was skip the day entirely. 

Her thoughts ran on an endless loop; Professor Ren’s face, shrouded in the dimness of his office. She wondered if he had finished grading her paper yet.

Halfway through the day, Poe finally cornered her, waving frantically as he ran from across the quad to meet her. 

“_ Hey _! Kenobi. You’re going to love it, I swear.” He held up a large paper bag. The size of it was promising. Perhaps it wasn’t tiny after all. 

“This better be at least enough fabric for a toddler.” she grabbed the bag, thinking back to Professor Ren’s estimation of her wardrobe. 

Poe’s eyes were sparkling, like a proud father. “I’m just glad you agreed to wear it to the pregame.” 

“I did what?” Rey croaked. The pregame was directly after her meeting with Professor Solo, which would mean there would be no time to change beforehand, unless she wore the costume to the meeting. “I did no such thing.” 

“_Ohhhhh _ but you did.” Poe patted her arm. “In fact, you swore on our entire friendship that you would. How else are we going to take a squad picture before you all get sweaty and drunk?”

“No way am I-- hang on, Are you not also going to get sweaty and drunk?”

“Come on Kenobi. I am without flaws.”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_ No way am I actually going to do this _. Rey gulped, staring at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the back of her dorm room door. She had been entirely wrong about the size of the bag having anything to do with the amount of fabric it contained. Poe had stuffed the bag with a wired satin kitten tail, causing the bulky appearance. 

The costume itself was a black full bodysuit with no fabric on the shoulders or back, just strings that criss-crossed down her spine. Though Rey was surprised that it covered her legs, she still wasn’t comfortable showing up to meet Professor Ren in this. 

Although some part of her was undeniably curious about how he would regard her - would he feel a _ harmony between reason and desire _, or would he wonder? 

Her curiosity persisted amidst all the tugging and shifting of the fabric around her body as she tried to justify it - no side boob? Some side boob? Shorter straps? Wear a sweater instead and just drop out of Professor Ren’s class as soon as the Registrar’s office opened on Monday?

“_Wow _ ,” Rose’s voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts as she walked into the dorm room. Rey habitually forgot to lock the door, and her friends knew it. “That is _ some _ kitty costume. Are you like one of those dominatrix kitties?” She giggled.

“I am not having this conversation with you,” Rey replied in a sing-song voice, grabbing her purse. Thinking about the words “Professor Ren” and “dominatrix” in the same sentence made the cat suit suddenly feel very sticky against the rising heat of her body. 

“Wait, are you going to meet Professor Ren right now, dressed like that?” Rose held up a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses in her hand, indicating that she’d come here for a very specific purpose.

“I wasn’t… uhh…” Rey tossed her purse on her bed exasperatedly. “Yes. Maybe. I was considering it.” 

Rose placed the two shot glasses down on Rey’s desk, unscrewing the vodka bottle and pouring them even amounts. “Not before you do this with me.” 

Rey appraised the bottle, noting that it was decent quality. “Did Poe lose a bet?” 

“Oh yeah,” Rose nodded, “I made him get top shelf stuff. Now take this shot with me before you scurry off to sleep with your Professor.”

“I am _ not _ sleeping with Professor Ren,” Rey sputtered. “He’s just… he wanted to see me.” 

“Ok so you’re not sleeping with him _ yet _, hurry hurry,” Rose held the shot glass up to her friend’s lips, tilting it back, leaving Rey no choice but to down the entire thing. 

Rey coughed, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Wow that was disgusting.” 

Rose shrugged. “It tastes better than cum. Have fun sleeping with your Professor.” She picked up the bottle and regarded Rey’s horrified face with a mischievous wink before disappearing back out into the hallway. 

For once Rey would like it if her friends _ didn’t _ encourage her to make bad decisions. 

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The walk to Professor Ren’s office had not been as embarrassing as she’d anticipated it to be, considering that much of the student body was _ also _ dressed for the holiday, many of whom were women with very little clothing on. In fact, next to her peers, Rey’s costume was fairly conservative. 

This realization did nothing to soothe the pit in her stomach, but it did help her fake a disinterested calm as she made her way across the quad, leaves crunching beneath her black boots. The wired satin kitten tail was wrapped in her hand, curled around her knuckle like a fuzzy whip. She tried not to think about the visual too much, lest Rose’s comments from earlier drift back into her mind while Professor Ren spoke to her about… whatever it was he wanted to see her about. 

She’d been so caught up in her own refusal of the strange feeling he seemed to have implanted in her that there hadn’t been much time to reflect on his intentions. Rey felt confident enough that - whatever it was - he would hide a part of himself from her. It was his signature, just like the black tie he always wore. 

If she wanted to disarm him, she would have to dig. 

Her mind buzzed from the vodka as she entered the Philosophy building.It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make her less anxious about showing up in a cat costume. Her embarrassment was replaced by curiosity. How would Professor Ren react when he saw her? Would he kick her out, considering the last time she showed up to his office braless and smelling of alcohol, he’d done just that?

When she arrived in front of his door, it was locked and there appeared to be no light coming from the crack underneath. Rey lifted a hand, hesitant, and knocked once. 

No response. 

She knocked a second time, a bit louder. It occurred to her that if anyone came down the hallway at that moment, they might think she was there for an entirely different reason. Rey thought of Hux, the senior from Ren’s class, and how scandalized he would be if he saw her. He would probably report Rey all the way up to the Dean for trying to seduce her Professor. 

_ Was _ she doing something wrong, though? Rey didn’t have the chance to think about it, for the wooden door before her opened slowly, revealing a tired looking Professor Ren. 

He stared at her face intently, barely flicking his eyes towards the rest of her. “Come in.”

Rey slipped through the door, which he had only opened wide enough for her petite frame to fit. She recalled the last time she’d come to his office, and how he had deliberately left the door open. 

He closed it slowly behind her. 

“You wanted to see me?” Her voice feigned irritation. 

“Are you supposed to be cat of some kind?” He appeared in front of her, leaning back on his desk. His eyes were overcast, like they’d been in her imagination all week. Not once had he even surveyed her body. His stillness began to unnerve Rey. Where was the breathless Ren she left standing in the lecture pit? The man before her was a beacon of stillness. Her spine prickled with indignation. He was _ hiding _ from her. 

“No,” Rey offered him a mocking smile, “I’m a Dominatrix Kitty.” Her eyes narrowed, daring him to continue his clinical disposition in the face of her provocation. She held up her hand with the tail coiled around it to emphasize her words. 

For a moment, the stone expression Professor Ren wore faltered, wincing as he stood to his full height, tipping towards her. He stopped before reaching her face, but he had leaned close enough that Rey could make out the lines around his eyes. 

“I see.” Ren’s jaw tightened. 

“Why did you want to see me?” She tried to breathe silently, despite how small and dry her throat felt in that moment. 

Professor Ren’s eyes flicked to the door. His profile illuminated by the gooseneck lamp’s glow, Rey could see the outline of his youth, and she wondered if he couldn’t be that much older than her, despite how he condescended to her. After a beat, he replied. “You know why.” 

Her heartbeat throttled. All the daydreams she’d collected the past week - hazy and dangerous - rushed to the forefront of her mind. 

“No, I don’t,” she measured her words. “_Why _ did you want to see me, Professor Ren?” She wouldn’t let him escape, not without admitting that he wondered just like she did. 

There was a sudden movement from his hand. He slammed it down on the desk, causing Rey to jump slightly. “Stop doing that,” he growled, blown out pupils barely visible in the lamp’s casting light. 

She did not need to ask what he meant. It didn’t even matter to her - only that he couldn’t contain himself. He was beginning to crack. Rey capitalized on the fissure by flipping the intensity of his expression onto him. “Is this your idea of _ harmony between reason and desire _? You can’t even look at me when you--” 

He slammed his hand down again, hissing, “of _ course I can’t _ , when you come into my office - into my _ class _ \- jesus, Rey - without a bra on. You - _ sit _ \- there,” he closed the gap between them, hands shooting out to seize her by the shoulders but stopping themselves at the last minute. His open palms hovered above her shoulders, like they were made of hot coal and he would burn himself if he did not hold back. “and expect me to _ think _ straight.” 

“I thought you said you’ve never desired anything that was bad for you.” Rey’s lids fluttered, her body contracting with the heavy feeling building between her legs. Everything else seemed to unravel, like the skin of a fruit - the conversation with Rose, her promise to make it to the pregame, Carter’s stupid joke about the girl and her Professor. 

Finally Ren’s hands grabbed her, first by the shoulders and then, slowly, her back. His fingers slipped gently beneath the strings that held up her top. His broad chest nearly swallowed her, pressing warmly into her as he breathed her in like an animal reveling in its prey. She felt drunk with desire, and judging from the low grunts he emitted while his thumbs traveled her spine, he was intoxicated by it too. 

“Professor…” She whimpered at his touch, too enthralled to be embarrassed. This was a desire she’d never experienced before; the flames of hell licked at her heels, and she felt herself tumbling down. 

“Don’t call me that,” he murmured. “I want to hear you say my name.” His fingers had found the lace thin bow at the small of her back. He gave it a teasing tug, and Rey felt a lightning strike between her thighs. In that moment, she would have done whatever he wanted. “Kylo Ren.” 

He seemed to sense her weakness. A hesitation took over his wandering hands, pulling back. “This isn’t right.”

Though she knew it wasn’t, her hips were already slowly bucking against him. He groaned again at the sensation. “_Fuck _, Rey, I want to rip this stupid costume off you.” 

Their lips were so close to touching. 

From the closed door came a sudden loud, sharp knock.


	8. Hiding In Plain Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ ahhhhh this is a shorter chapter than usual, but i just had too much planned out to write so it would either be a short chapter or a suuuuuuper long one, and it's been a few weeks since an update so i went with it! i have some ~fun~ and ~dRaMaTiC~ things coming up in the next few chapters so hold on to ur brooches and stay hydrated <333 ]

Rey and Kylo exchanged panicked looks. Her skin burned as he wretched his hands from her back, almost getting caught in the lace-string he’d been seconds from untying. 

  
The knock came a second time, louder, more frantic. Then, a voice. 

“Hello? Professor Ren? It’s me. Are you in there?” 

They both knew who the voice belonged to, and it produced an identical response; pained expressions, followed by quick shuffling. Armitage Hux, the insufferable senior from Professor Ren’s class--the very same student Rey had feared catching her like this, in their Professor’s office, dressed like a sexy kitten--was slowly turning the doorknob. 

Heart pounding, Rey did the only thing that came to mind. She dove for the other side of Kylo’s desk, squeezing her tiny body under its wooden frame. Kylo hissed at her, “What are you doing?” but it was too late, for the door was now open and Hux regarded the room with a loud entrance. 

“Oh, I’m _ so _ glad you’re here! I wanted to ask if you’ve finished grading my paper yet?” He was blinking expectantly, seemingly unphased by his own uninvited entrance. 

To which Professor Ren scoffed, “Come in, Hux.” 

He crossed over to his desk, clearing his throat. He smoothed the crisp black tie he always wore, eyes flicking down to the spread of papers on his desk top. Kylo could see Rey’s shadow as she squeezed herself further into the desk. She banged her head against the top, to which Kylo coughed, slamming his hand down on the desk to cover up the noise. 

Hux seemed completely unbothered, his expectant stare unchanging. 

Professor Ren made a show of shuffling through the papers atop his desk. He knew Hux’s essay was nowhere to be found in this pile, as Kylo hadn’t gotten to it yet. It was customary to save the most nauseating writing for the end of the grading cycle, in order to make quick work of a painful task. 

“I’m afraid I haven’t finished grading it yet, Hermitage.” 

“Hux.” The young man corrected him as though he were asking to pass the salt. “Would you mind discussing it with me right now, actually? I have a few questions.” Kylo’s lips twitched with disappointment, having hoped his rude attitude would give this student the hint to _ leave _, not promote further discussion. 

The ginger-haired man helped himself to the single wooden seat across from Professor Ren’s desk. Rey’s shoes could be seen in the small crack at the bottom of the rectangular structure. 

Kylo made a strangled noise. “What are your questions?” 

“Aren’t you going to sit?” The student waved his hand at the unoccupied chair. 

“Oh, right. Yes.” Kylo awkwardly bent down into the chair, careful not to bump into Rey with his knees, which were already rather large for the space in the first place. 

Rey shifted to make room as best she could, positioning herself squarely in between his thighs. In another situation, she wouldn’t have minded the view. But, all she could think of was the scandal of being caught under her Professor’s desk, dressed in skin tight latex; what would she say? Oh, I dropped a pen? Rey pictured the cover of the school newspaper, reading, _ Local Student Rey Kenobi Ruins Her Entire Academic Career _. She could hear her friends laughing about it now, though there would be nothing funny about something like this.

“I wanted to ask what you thought of my third paragraph. I was worried it was the weakest one, what with the other paragraphs being so saturated with genius. I had to find a balance. It was _ so _hard.” Hux smirked. 

“I told you I haven’t finished grading it yet.” Kylo grunted. Rey had moved to place her hands on the insides of his thighs, likely to steady herself so another head-bumping fiasco wouldn’t happen, and it roused his pulse. Kylo could feel his pants tightening around his zipper area, aching for Rey’s hands to inch up a bit more. 

As though she could read his mind, Kylo felt her fingers slowly tap their way up. 

What he did not know is that Rey, feeling her back wobbling against the poorly structured standard issue desk, was worried she would fall out the other side of she did not grip onto something. And, well, the only thing sturdy enough was Kylo Ren’s thighs. 

“Are you crazy? Not now!” He hissed, forgetting that Hux was in the room. 

Hux looked offended. “Well, I thought it was a good time. You _ did _ let me in.” 

To which Rey, jittery from the mix of fear and desire and utter _ terror _ at being caught, was unable to contain a laugh at Hux’s absurd comment, considering he stormed right in here uninvited. 

“What was that?” Hux finally seemed to notice something was off. 

“What was _ what _?” Kylo slammed his palm down on the desk again, hoping it would send Rey the hint that if she kept going up his thigh any further, he would probably explode into a dragon and burn the entire room to ashy bits.

“I heard someone laugh.” The student spoke matter-of-factly, and then, to Professor Ren’s horror, slowly looked down to the tiny crack at the bottom of the desk. 

“Professor,” Hux’s tone shifted, perhaps for the first time in his life, to curiosity. “Is there someone hiding under your desk?”


	9. Fires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Wowowowow, this update took forever!! Thank you to everyone who stuck around, your patience is astounding and I am indebted to your readership. I hope this update is worth the wait!! Get ready for 1) evil hux, 2) jungle juice, 3) lots of angst ]

Rey clapped a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t see a thing beyond the cramped wooden frame of the desk, but the gentle creaking coming from behind her gave her a certain feeling that any moment now Hux would poke his head down and see her. What would he do? What would she say? What if she panicked and punched him?

“Professor?” She heard Hux repeat himself. 

“I think you should leave.” Kylo’s measured tone responded after a beat. 

“I think…” Hux’s smarmy voice trailed off, the sound of his boots shifting causing Rey’s heartbeat to throttle. “...that you’re going to give me an A.” 

Rey held her breath, waiting for Professor Ren’s response. 

“Why?” 

“Because you and I both know we aren’t alone in this room, and…” 

Rey heard shuffling. She strained for stillness. Even breathing felt compunctious. 

“You’ve made your point.” Ren’s voice simmered. 

Hux let out a dramatic sigh, as though he’d just been given the best news. “Great. Oh,  _ Great _ . I’m so glad this is working out. You’ll give me an ‘A’, of course, because you can’t risk losing your job. But… that’s not all you can’t risk, is it?” He seemed to be putting together an evil plan, like a lazy mathematician cobbling formulas together he perhaps only half understood. “You’d go to jail.” His face slide into a satisfied grin. “There’s one more thing I need from you,  _ Professor _ .” 

Jail? Rey glanced down at her outfit, although truthfully she couldn’t see much under the desk. It wasn’t  _ that _ bad, she could tell the school it was her fault and she’d hid under the desk without being prompted. Hux was getting out of hand. Rey scooted her ankles, prepared to stand up and tell the redhead where to shove his master plan, but before she could make a move Kylo Ren stood abruptly. 

“Speak your piece.”

Hux paused, regarding the tall man with glinting eyes.“I want you to set up a meeting for me with James Snoke. I know he was your former advisor, and frankly this is an amazing opportunity for me.” 

Utter Silence. 

“Can you imagine, to speak with one of the foremost minds of the last two generations? I mean, of course, you  _ can _ , you were his protege. I’ve read all your papers.” Hux chuckled.

More silence.

Then, Ren, like an explosion. “ _ Get out of my office _ .” 

“What? No. Professor Ren. You aren’t understanding me. It’s not a question.” 

“ _ Get out or I will make you regret ever speaking in my presence _ .”

“But he’s the foremost thinker of our--”

Kylo darted out of Rey’s view. In the sparing confines of his office, she could only imagine one place to go. He must be face to face with Hux now, both near the door. She began crawling out of the desk, wincing when the fabric of her bodysuit squeaked. 

“I heard something!” Hux declared. “I’ll go get the Dean right now. I’ll tell her I saw you two, I’ll tell her I heard you saying you’ll give--” He stopped. “ _ No. _ I’ll tell her you tried to bribe me to stay silent.” 

“ _ You _ are the one who--”

For the first time, Hux cut Ren off. “Get me a meeting with James Snoke.” 

Rey couldn’t wait another moment. It was time to punch Hux in the face and drag him down to the Dean’s office herself. She rolled out from under the desk and popped her head up, only distantly embarrassed by the hair covering her face. Pushing it aside aggressively, she opened her mouth to give Hux an awakening, but only Kylo was standing by the door. 

“Where did he go?” She blinked. 

Silence from Kylo. His back was to her, but she could still see the white of his knuckles. 

“Are you okay? I’m sorry about what happened. I’ll just clear it--” 

“Rey.” 

“Listen I know it looks bad but we didn’t actually  _ do anything _ .” 

“I need you to drop my class.” 

His request caught her off guard, but she pondered it for a moment, unwitting to Ren’s rising anger. “Oh, well, I guess that makes sense. If I’m not your student it’s--” 

“You don’t understand.” His knuckles were nearly blue now. “I need you to drop my class. I need you to… disappear from my life.” 

She laughed, unable to stop herself. “Don’t be dramatic. This isn’t the first time in history something like this has happened.” Here he was, denying himself again. As was his legacy of desire, it seemed, given how quickly he retreated any time it threatened to be seen by others. 

Rey vowed not let him rebuke her this time. Her own legacy of desire--Rey Kenobi--was more than a furtive dash for a single door, a fixed limit that made anything unknown into an impossibility. She wanted more than that. 

In her frustration, she instinctively walked out from behind his desk and approached his tense frame. The door was open. Hux must have left it that way. 

“For your  _ information _ , I’m in this class for more reasons than just you. I didn’t even know you when I signed up to take it.” Rey crossed her arms, waiting for Kylo to turn and face her. 

He did not move. 

Finally forced to regard him with more than just impatience, Rey glanced down at his pale hands. His hunched shoulders. With trepidation, she uncrossed her arms.“Who is this Snoke guy, anyway?” 

Still, nothing. 

“Kylo?” 

“Don’t say my name.” He spun around to face her. Whatever she’d been expecting to see on his face--be it petulance or rage or even a cool detachment--was nothing compared to the haggard creasing of his eyes, their irises flushed black like a man drowning. 

Her usual response, irritation produced by Kylo Ren’s signature stubbornness, was cushioned by a new feeling. Concern. Sympathy. He was turning on himself. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” In the back of her mind, she could hear her friend Rose--someone who had more practice with empathy than anyone else Rey had ever known. Rose would tell her to  _ pay very close attention _ . “Everything is going to be okay,” she repeated firmly. 

Kylo’s own face hung on him like a stranger, seeming to exhaust him with its mere presence. Was he really so nervous about losing his job? She was certain the Dean wouldn’t even believe Hux entirely if he  _ did _ tell her; every time he opened his mouth to speak, something insufferable came out.

Perhaps Kylo was worried she would turn on him? Rose again appeared in her mind, telling her to say something, anything. Reassure him. 

“If they ask me, I’ll protect you.” Rey’s voice softened as her body opened towards him, offering the possibility of tenderness. 

But Kylo did not take it. Instead, he pulled himself against the shelf of books that comprised the wall adjacent to the exit, his face rapidly aging to Rey as each moment of silence passed. Why was he so  _ jumpy _ ?

A new fear bloomed in her chest. For weeks, the two of them had churned about the same tired room inside their minds; one that could not imagine itself differently, that needed denial to survive. Was this the fate of her own desire, after all?

Another thought crossed her mind, this one shameful to her. She could not keep it in. 

“Are you.. Are you afraid of Hux?” The words left her lips with disbelief. “He’s a  _ manchild _ . I’ll just go to the Dean and tell her that he’s trying to blackmail you for something that didn’t happen.” 

“You,” Kylo’s eyes caught her, their darkness rapidly turning into thorns, gating whatever might have snuck out ten minutes ago, had Hux not interrupted them. 

Had he not brought up James Snoke. 

“...are a child, too. You have no idea what true fear is. Leave my office, Rey. Don’t… don’t talk to me again.” He stepped aside, giving her a path to the door that spared them even a brushing of chests. 

Rey refused to move, partly from disbelief and partly from the whiplash of coming so close to something she ached for and having it inelegantly ripped from her within minutes. 

Finally, from Ren: “Please.”

She scowled, an impulse to make him feel rejected too swelling in her throat. A more mature version of herself--or, at least, a less tipsy one--would have walked out without another word. Alas, the vodka.

“You really  _ are _ afraid of yourself.” Words she’d already slung at him once before. 

She suddenly felt exposed, embarrassed, a child dressed like a version of herself who dared to feel desired. Distant memories--cauterized long ago--filtered through her mind. For the most part, she kept them locked away, but the longer she stood there feeling the stale office air against her bare shoulders, the more she felt like a twelve year old Rey, watching an endless reel of backs--people abandoning her, forgetting her, ignoring her. 

Underestimating her. 

“Fine,” she seethed, “I won’t talk to you again.” 

Just before exiting, though: “But I’m not dropping the class.” 

She gave him a forceful smile, as though they’d just finished a transaction. It was her way of extinguishing whatever it was she came here for.  _ He’s right _ ,  _ you are a child _ . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylo let her leave. 

And he did have to-- _ let _ her. It took all of his strength to remain still as she stormed off. Everything had gone wrong. 

He considered all the time he’d spent contemplating what it meant to ration parts of himself, to hide behind logic and the terror he could so easily inspire in those around him--not of his actions, but of his thoughts. Everyone feared his judgement, Kylo knew this. 

He considered it with the backdrop of Rey’s face, her tiny body sitting in his large lecture hall, hundreds of eyes a pathetic buffer to their electricity. 

She had consumed him, it was undeniable. 

But it didn’t matter, now. 

Kylo would not speak of Snoke to anyone, and had not in over a decade. However Rey made him feel, she wasn’t worth opening that pit of hell. Nothing was. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rey stomped across the courtyard. The wind had picked up since she left her dorm room earlier, and now her body was feeling the consequence of more than one mistake. She was absolutely freezing. 

Finn’s on-campus apartment was only another two small courtyards away, but it might as well have been in the next hemisphere to Rey as she shivered angrily. 

What was  _ wrong _ with men? Better, what was wrong with  _ her _ ? Entertaining the absurd idea that her Professor would be… something other than a person with pressure points.

Her mind went back to his words in the lecture pit:  _ drinking, partying excessively, dressing like a toddler _ . He’d chided her, but he was also the one who was, frankly, turned on by it. 

Well, she thought bitterly, no time like the present to do all of those things. She would show Kylo Ren that he was foolish to think she couldn’t be both desirable  _ and _ smart.

And then she wondered, pathetically, if he even thought she was intelligent, or if that had been part of some larger dash for power, a rush, nothing like a genuine feeling. Perhaps he was so terrified of Hux because he did have a history of seducing his students...

Rey was nauseous, unable to continue the thought. 

She was also at Finn’s door. 

Banging on it loudly, she fidgeted against the cold, doing a mental check of how many different types of alcohol she could consume tonight based on her past performances. 

Finn opened the door, a cup of purple liquid extended out to her. Rey lost count of her limits.

“Cheers.” She scooped the cup from him and began drinking, following him inside. 

“Hmmm,” a voice came from behind her. Rose’s costume was a cross between a fairy and a vampire, a white glittery mesh skirt over a pink leotard. She was in the middle of smearing fake blood down the sides of her chin. “He said no, didn’t he.” 

“Who said no?” Finn absently poured more of the purple liquid into Rey’s cup. “Also, how dare he?” 

“What’s our policy on throwing up? I think we should declare a No Throw Up Zone.” Poe appeared, his torso almost entirely bare save for a crinkling swatch of unfolded white napkins that appeared to be taped together in the shape of a toga. 

“That’s not going to actually stop drunk people from puking.” Rose observed.

Rey went to take another drink, but as she brought the plastic rim to her lips, Finn’s expectant face greeted her eye-line. 

“ _ Who _ ?”

She coughed, a familiar embarrassment tinging her cheeks. “No one. It doesn’t matter. What is this?” Taking another hefty gulp, she wiped the corner of her mouth appraisingly. “It’s good.” 

“It’s your Professor.” Poe stated matter-of-factly. He plucked a cup of his own from the table behind Finn. 

“How did you…” Rey started. 

“What? No. I mean, look outside.” Poe nodded to the front door, which was left open. “It’s your Professor.”

Carter stepped into the foyer, his costume the source of Poe’s comment. The blond haired boy had on a ridiculous wig, a wild blob of jet black hair. He was wearing a dark red button up with a very familiar signature thin black tie. In his hand he carried a briefcase, not unlike the one that belonged to the inspiration for his costume. 

“Carter.” Rey stated his name awkwardly, unsure of when would be the best time to start screaming. 

“Call me Professor Ren.” He responded sternly, stepping towards her so he loomed above. The wig looked absurd.

Before Rey could punch herself in the face to escape the most awkward moment of her life, a group of men filtered in behind him, all dressed strangely. Rey recognized one of them as vaguely similar to a nasally Biology Professor she’d had freshman year. 

“The guys I live with wanted to be meta, so,” Carter shrugged, “we went with Campus Celebrities.”

Realizing that there was nowhere to throw up discreetly, Rey turned to the cup in her hand and took another drink. 

Carter laughed nervously, peering down at her while she drank. 

“So you’re a cat of some kind?”

“Dominatrix Kitty,” Rose chimed in. 

His eyebrows shot up. “Where’s your uhh, whip?” 

“What?” Rey had been staring at the floor intently, but his question caused her to look down at her hand, realizing it was empty. She’d left the whip in Professor Ren’s office. 

“Are you okay?” Carter nudged her. “You look kinda flushed.” 

It hadn’t missed Rey’s attention that he’d only been speaking in questions. Of course he was. All men are idiots. Fools. Afraid of their own shadows. Rey was convinced. She nursed her drink, continually regarding Carter in silence. 

“Hey  _ Professor _ ,” Poe popped in between them, “help me set up in the beer pong table.”

Carter shrugged, following after a drawn out glance at Rey, as though he expected her to protest. 

  
Finn lazily draped an arm around her, bringing his own drink to his lips before muttering, “Honestly, it’s just so  _ tacky _ , that wig.” 


	10. Discipline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ some of the tags are finally getting put to good use! please enjoy this chapter and prepare to have your slow burn kinks finally get some ~action~ 
> 
> I'm also looking for a beta reader, if anyone is interested let me know!! ]

Rey was grateful for the pounding bass in her sternum. It made it that much easier to focus on anything but her own wretched thoughts. 

Two cups of jungle juice ago, it occurred to her that spite was not a winning ingredient to mix with everything going on at the moment. But, Rey was tired from all the contortion; to make Kylo--no, _ Professor Ren _ respect her, to make her own desire something dignified, as though goodness could be _ trained_, as though it had anything to do with desire at all. 

And so, in her exhaustion, bitterness brewed. 

She swirled her cup. She drank. She repeated. 

Her mind wandered about its own echoes, plucking through each memory of her interactions with Professor Ren--the first time they’d spoken one on one, their argument in the lecture pit, the email he sent her in the middle of the night, the gooseneck lamp in his office that always cast a shadow along his thin black tie. 

To reconcile this image with the trembling man whose office she’d left a few hours ago was a feat not even made tolerable with copious amounts of alcohol. 

And then there was Carter, whom Rey had been devoutly ignoring. 

The wig made it easy to spot him bobbing about, and whenever he hovered too close Rey would tuck herself behind Poe or Rose. 

As the fifth cup went down, Rey noticed how uncertain her feet were that the ground was indeed below them. 

“Oh no no no,” she mumbled, steadying herself on Poe’s paper toga. Her finger ripped right through it. “This is not good.” 

Poe glanced down at his now fully bare chest, eyes mutinous. “You’re _ damn right _ it isn’t good. My costume doesn’t even make _ sense _ anymore.” He gestured wildly at the neon green biker shorts he donned. 

“It didn’t make sense in the first place.” Rose spoke wisely. She reached over to Rey’s cup and swapped it from her, replacing it with a jug of water. 

Surprised by the weight of the gallon jug, Rey nearly dropped it. 

Just as her arm sank down with the weight, someone else swooped in and grabbed the jug from underneath, lifting it back up while Rey still clutched the handle. 

“Th-thank you,” she hiccuped. 

“Thank you _ Sir_.” 

Carter greeted her with a smirk, his eyes glossed from the alcohol, just like Rey’s. 

“Ha! Ha… ha…. That’s--funny.” Rey looked anywhere but his face. She brought the jug to her mouth, wobbling a bit as she took a drink. Some of it spilled down her chin. 

“Slow down there, champ.” Carter laughed, gingerly taking the jug from her. When she gave him a cross look, he quickly held it back out to her. “Sorry, sorry.” 

Rey held the jug protectively against her chest, swaying as she did nothing to hide her smugness. Men were idiots. Carter was an idiot. Professor Ren was not an idiot but he _ was _ a coward and that made him worse than an idiot in Rey’s eyes. She found a small victory over Carter in their exchange. 

It provoked her boldness. She blinked, regarding Carter slowly. “Why did you dress like Professor Ren?” 

“I told you,” Carter laughed, “my roommates came up with the idea.” 

“No,” Rey shook her head, her gaze still set upon him. “_Why _ did you _ really _ dress like Professor Ren?” 

“Is this part of your whole Dominatrix Kitty costume?” He was smirking but the lack of inhibition that drove Rey at that moment also convinced her he was harboring anxiety. She was, perhaps, pressing on a nerve. 

Her mind drifted back to Professor Ren’s fingers grazing her back, so close to untying the strings that held her in--that trapped her in expectations. 

The expectation that Kylo would stand by his desire.

The expectation that she would find answers in a _ classroom _ instead of… well, anywhere else. 

Not anymore. The Rey who sat and waited for a legacy to find her--waited for a lineage, a lighthouse to guide her towards her identity--was done with expectations. 

If she was doomed to always be surrounded by cowardly men, it was about time she had a little bit of fun.

Which meant -- “Yeah. Sure. Tell me the truth or I’ll…” she mulled over her next words, the alcohol now pure heat in her veins. But she did not get a chance to finish her threat. 

Finn’s voice cut through them, his expression cross. Rey realized how close Carter had been to her. “What,” he waved his hand between the two of them, “is _ this _ fucking _ shit, _ mate?” 

Though she’d been friends with Finn long enough to know that his drunken persona was a foul-mouthed british man, she couldn’t stop herself from bursting into laughter. 

“I’m _ serious_, peanut, I can’t condone this.” He waved again, catching himself on Rey’s shoulder as he stumbled. His face was quite serious. “I can’t let you sleep with your Professor.”

And though Rey knew he was referring to Carter, and Rey also knew that she was probably seven or eight shots deep into the _ drinking, partying excessively, dressing like a toddler _ plan she’d committed to many sobers ago, she took Finn’s comment to heart. Jabbing her finger into his chest, she spoke, “Don’t worry, he doesn’t want to sleep with me anymore.” Her words were capped by a hiccup, completely oblivious to the contorting expression on Carter’s face. His hand hovered by her elbow, like he’d been impulsed to grab her. 

Finn was too drunk to muster a response besides laughter. From behind them where the beer pong was set up, someone called his name. “Peanut,” he grinned, giving Rey a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek, and then stumbled off to _ defend his good name. _

“Rey,” Carter’s hand finally took her elbow. “What did you mean when you said ‘anymore’?” 

“What?” She squinted up at him, trying to recall if he’d been standing there the whole time. The world had shifted out of focus. Truthfully, she couldn’t even recall the last hour, or how she came to be standing in the foyer so close to someone dressed like the exact man she was trying desperately to not think about. Bits and pieces came to her, but they were interrupted by Kylo Ren’s voice. _ You come into my office - into my class… without a bra on… _

_ I want to hear you say my name… rip this stupid costume… off you _… “Please, just do it,” she groaned, uninhibited, at the memory of Kylo’s tall frame. Not unlike Carter’s at that moment. 

Suddenly, the absurd black wig Carter wore was moving towards her, along with the rest of his face, and before Rey realized that she’d accidentally spoken aloud, Carter’s mouth was on hers. 

For a moment, she let him stay there. Amongst many things, the alcohol had dulled her reaction speed. And, perhaps some of it was the still lingering spite she’d been mixing into herself all night. The idea of Professor Ren--the _ real _ Professor Ren--seeing her right now, in this moment. Would he regret pushing her away? Would he tell her to stick to someone more _ appropriate _? As though desire was in any way about propriety. 

A tiny rebellion threaded its way into her. That stupid whip she’d forgotten in Kylo Ren’s office… 

It didn’t belong to him. He had no right to...to take her weapon from her. Yes, no right at all. 

As her reason mashed itself up, willingly submitting to more base instinct, Rey finally pushed Carter off her, face balled up in determination. 

Carter blinked, unsure of how to receive what was going on. “Did… did you like that?” He asked sheepishly. 

“You _ deny _ your feelings, you _ deny _ your attraction, and yet, given the opportunity, you don’t even _ hesitate _.” She wasn’t speaking to Carter, though her eyes were set upon him. In Rey’s drunken stupor, yelling at the costumed Professor Ren was as good as yelling at the real deal. He needed to know that she could see through him. No matter how many thorns. 

“I didn’t… Look, is this about that night in the common rooms? That girl I was with?” 

Rey’s mind had wandered even further from the scene before her. She recalled the text--_ Phaedrus _ \--and all the coded ways Kylo had offered himself to her. Her hesitation, her uncertainty back then seemed absurd now. Of _ course _ he’d wanted her, too. Why else would he obsess so much over a stupid advisor form? Why bother even telling Rey she _ disappointed _ him, if he wasn’t intrigued by her potential in the first place? 

“Rey, I’m sorry, I thought you weren’t into me and I didn’t really hang out with her again.” 

Why email her in the middle of the night? Why forgive repeated offenses of… of what? Stupidity? Smallness? What were the words he used…

_ I have doubts _. 

_ Yes _ , Rey’s thoughts sizzled, _ yes you do _. 

“...if you’ll just let me.” 

_ Let me what _ ? Rey’s mind reeled itself back in, too late it seemed. Carter’s hands were entirely around her waist, and his eyes looked mystified. Searching. Yet certain, of something. Did _ he _ comprehend his own desire? 

“_Oi! Campus Police is on the way _ !” Poe’s voice cut through everything. “_If you’re underage, get out. Otherwise, just, yanno, stay calm_!” 

“Rey?” Carter’s voice was full of concern. 

She tried to focus through the fog--Professor Ren’s face, the musty wood from that stupid desk in his office--but the effort exhausted her. Just as she opened her mouth to finally speak to Carter, a swell of nausea took hold of her. 

Quite unceremoniously, Rey vomited all over Carter’s shoes. 

And then the door, quite near to them, opened to reveal two campus security officers and a Faculty Escort. 

“_Is she okay? One second _.” Muffled sounds around her, and then arms on her sides, hoisting her up. Rey blinked slowly, trying to register everything. 

She saw Finn and Poe clutching each other warily across the room, Finn mouthing something that looked like _ stand up you wanker_. Rose was standing nervously to their right, fiddling with one corner of her mesh tu-tu as she watched Rey. 

As though the air had suddenly returned to the room, she finally registered what was happening. 

“I’m fine I’m fffine, really. I’m just--” 

“Sorry, miss. It’s policy.” One of the campus security officers escorting her out grunted. 

Rey felt an ill-timed flare of annoyance at this random man with a toy gun talking about policy while he dragged her somewhere against her will. Finn twitched, lunging a bit towards the door to catch Rey’s attention. When she looked up at him, he made a wild chopping gesture across his neck, as if he’d already sensed her impertinence bubbling up. _ Right _ , a sober Rey gurgled somewhere deep inside her, _ get yourself together _. 

Rose had actually moved towards her, sidestepping Finn. She wiped a napkin across Rey’s mouth, whispering, “you’ll thank me later.” 

“Wait, _ wait _ , can you just _ tell them I’m _\--” Rey shouted after Rose, shamefully unaware of her slurred words. 

“What’s your name, Miss? Do you have an ID on you?” 

“If you’re asking whether or not I’m 21, I am. I know I look like a child--” 

“_Y__ou certainly act like one _.”

A voice Rey hadn’t expected to hear again--until Tuesday’s lecture--caught her off guard. She gulped, suddenly painfully aware of how sweaty she was from being in a cramped foyer surrounded by people, how she probably reeked of not only alcohol but throw up, and how Professor Ren seemed to be regarding her, eyes full of absolutely, utterly, entirely nothing. 

“Thank you, gentleman. I don’t think we need to call an ambulance for this one.” Professor Ren nodded at the security guards. “As the Faculty Escort, I’ll take her back to the dorms. You can finish up here.” He grabbed under her right arm, pulling her away from the security guards. 

They didn’t wait for a reply. Professor Ren dragged her along, walking in the opposite direction to her dorms. She tried to slow their pace, whining. “I live over on Carm. It’s the _ other _ way.” 

At first he did not respond. In fact, he sped them up. To which Rey whined again, trying to pull her arm from him. 

He spun around with such ferocity that it nearly knocked Rey over. Grabbing the front of his shirt to catch herself, she yelled, “Hey! What is _ your problem _ I’m just trying to--”

“What, _ Rey _ ? Get my attention? Act out because you didn’t get what you wanted earlier?” Ren’s face was pale in the streetlight’s cast above them, but his eyes were anything but withdrawn. The thorns were not blocking her out this time. They were _ pointing _ at her. 

She bristled against his grip, shouting, “_Not everything I do is about you _!” 

And yet… wasn’t all of this about him? To forget him? To deny any trace of desire after having been turned away? 

Was that not, in some way, fear? The realization filled her with shame. To be guilty of the very same thing she accused in another. 

“How…” Ren used his leverage under her arm to nearly lift her, pulling them so close that she had no choice but to let her head fall back, looking up at him as though he were the moon or a grenade in the sky, exploding. His proximity infuriated her. It twisted her stomach and pricked her skin and filled her lungs with dynamite, preparing for her own detonation. She countered his invasive hold with her own determination, craning to meet his eyes--jump right into them if she had to, thorns and all. “How…” he echoed himself, the harsh crease of his brow fading into something drunk Rey could only register as blithe. “...much have you had to drink?” 

“_Not enough _ if I’ve ended up in your arms, anyways.” She sulked. 

“Were you trying to do the opposite?” 

“I was _ trying _ to do what you asked me to, _ Sir_.” Rey thought back bitterly to Carter’s words to her upon entering Finn’s apartment earlier in the night. At least _ that _ version of Professor Ren could own up to his impurities. 

“What did you fucking call me?” Ren’s breathing hitched. “Is this _ your _ idea of _ harmony between desire and reason _?” He threw her words back at her. 

“Professor. Kylo. Sir. Aren’t those all just words for the same thing?” Though she’d stopped shouting, her voice was still a slurring hiss. 

“And what is that, Miss Rey?” 

He had some nerve calling her that. She could feel the wetness pooling in her panties--too tightly pressed against her to escape--to pretend like she wasn’t seconds from one of two equally terrible mistakes; to let him win, or to _ let _herself lose. 

She thought back to the essay she’d agonized over, her first chance to show Professor Ren how she regarded the world--how she regarded herself--in relationship to desire. Where were the fancy words, the theories she could hide behind, where were those safety nets now? Why couldn’t she _ articulate _ something she’d pained over, word for word? _Forbidden_.

Ren must have noticed her inner turmoil, or perhaps he was experiencing some of his own, for he released her, roughly, and smoothed the front of his jacket. “It doesn’t matter, really.” His tone was clinical, an odd pivot for someone who was moments earlier clawing at her like the air between them was unholy. But he could not sustain it. A crack entered his voice. “It doesn’t matter at _ all_, really.” 

“Coward.” Not the word she’d meant, but it was certainly true. 

“_What_?” Ren growled. 

“You heard me.” The memory of his grip on her arm propelled her. Her body craved a closeness to him that her mind did not sanction, and so, without recourse for reconciliation, she did the only thing that made sense. She shoved him. “Coward.” 

Ren’s suffering demeanor faltered for a moment, replaced by an incredulous laugh. He invaded her space again, a knight descending upon a pawn. He made her feel disposable. 

She shoved him again. 

  
This time he did not laugh but he did grab the sides of her arms, nearly hissing at her. “Don’t…. Don’t do that.” His voice cracked again, like another piece of armor falling off, perhaps to reveal a monster in its own right. “_Rey_, jesus _ fucking _ christ, you --" He winced, like a man waiting to be burned by his own undoing. Like words were gateways to dangers that had no place for reason, for goodness... Ren gulped, the crack in his voice now fully exposed for the hunger it was. "-- you need to be disciplined.”


End file.
